


Adrenaline Rush

by queenhomeslice



Series: I Wanna Ride My Chocoboy All Day: Prompto/Reader Stories [25]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Dirty Talk, Domestic Bliss, Dominant Prompto Argentum, Established Relationship, F/M, Kitchen Sex, Morning Sex, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Prompto comes home from a run after he's woken up late--seeing you in just an oversized t-shirt and underwear, prepping breakfast, gives him an idea of how to burn off some extra energy.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader
Series: I Wanna Ride My Chocoboy All Day: Prompto/Reader Stories [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554340
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	Adrenaline Rush

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.  
> _____  
> credit to @thwippersnapple for the prompt idea! <3

“ _Sh_ _i_ _t_!” 

The loud exclamation jolts you out of your deep sleep, causing you to flail a little and hurriedly turn over. Prompto’s already leaned over, looking at his phone on the bedside table. He scrambles out of bed, clad in only red boxer-briefs, hopping on one foot and then the other as he strips and searches in the dresser for his running gear. 

You sit up, yawning, trying to become coherent. “Prom?” you ask, groggy and still mostly asleep. “Whas’ wrong?” 

“Overslept!” comes the high-pitched yelp. 

You rub your eyes a little more into focus, watching in amusement as a very naked Prompto stumbles into compression leggings and a sleeveless workout shirt. He pauses for a half-second and turns to you. “I was planning on running a new, longer route this morning before training—but now I’ll have to cut it short if I wanna come back and shower and change before training at the Citadel. Cor’s running me through target practice drills, and then I have magic training with the glaives after lunch.” His stomach gurgles, and he holds his hand across it. “Ugh, water and a granola bar it is.” 

You nod, slowly coming out of the tangle of sheets, resting your feet on the floor. “Okay. I can, uh. Make you breakfast for when you come back?” 

Prompto shakes his head, coming up to you and wrapping you in a quick, warm hug. “Nah, you don’t gotta do that. I’ll be okay.” He kisses your forehead and darts to the bathroom to pee and gargle mouthwash. He bolts to the kitchen, grabbing his reusable water bottle and a granola bar from the box atop the fridge, falling into his running shoes on his way out of the door. 

You’re left in a daze—from the time he shouted you—and himself—awake, he was on the street in seven minutes. You shake your head, marveling at his boundless energy. You set an alarm to wake you up again in fifteen minutes, snuggling back down into the bed, determined to doze a little longer. 

When Prompto returns nearly forty-five minutes later, you’re up and showered, dressed in one of his old oversized t-shirts (that he bought specifically so you could wear them, even though they dwarf his lithe, muscular frame) and comic book-patterned boyshorts, bent over the kitchen counter, cutting up fruit for a protein smoothie, with scrambled eggs and bacon simmering in separate pans on the stove. You hear the door click open and the tell-tale shuffling of Prompto taking off his sneakers. 

“Chocobabe?” he calls. 

“In here, Prom!” 

You feel his gaze on you as he enters the kitchen, but you’re too focused on prepping fruit to turn and greet him properly. 

“Oh man, smells amazing! Whatcha makin’? Is this all for me?” He comes up behind you and slides his strong arms around your soft, plush waist, resting his head on your shoulder. You can smell the pine deodorant, and underneath that, his natural scent, paired with the detergent from his clean workout clothes. The odors invade your senses and you inhale deeply, head reeling with the pheromones that Prompto’s giving off. 

“Just, uh. A fruit protein smoothie,” you say nodding at the fruit, the plastic container of vanilla protein powder, and the carton of coconut milk on the counter. “And um. Eggs and bacon.” 

“Wow,” breathes Prompto, warm breath tickling your ear, making you shiver. “I’m a pretty lucky guy to have you around.” 

“Mmhmm,” you agree, nodding. “The, uh. The bacon should be ready soon, and the eggs look done...” You reach, with Prompto’s arms still around you, to turn off the burner for the eggs, turning the burner under the pan of bacon to a low simmer to finish browning. Moving back to the cutting board full of berries and bananas, you wiggle against Prompto, noticing that he’s plastered himself to your back with no intention of pulling away. “Shouldn’t you be going to get showered and dressed, Mr. Crownsguard?” you tease. 

“Mmmmm, in a minute,” Prompto replies. He pushes his hips forward, and unwinds one hand from around your tummy, trailing it down your side, along your thighs, fingering the bottom hem of your boyshort underwear. “You look so good like this,” he whispers, voice dropping low as he mouths at your neck. “Standing here in my shirt, making me a breakfast that you know I’ll love...” 

You shiver, goosebumps exploding onto your skin as Prompto’s hand wanders. You arch back into him, and that’s when you feel his erection, constrained by the tight spandex of his compression leggings. “Prom...” 

“You’re so hot,” Prompto continues, both hands now dancing along your skin as he slides the shirt up, cupping the underside of your breasts, lightly pinching and pulling at your nipples. 

You can feel the thud of his heartbeat as he continues to fondle you, sucking light marks just above the hem of the shirt’s collar. “Prompto...” 

“Gorgeous, loving, thoughtful,” he says in-between kisses, grinding his hips against your wide ass with purpose. “Funny, smart, compassionate...” 

“Good in the kitchen?” you manage to breathe out. 

“Mmmmm, you definitely give Iggy a run for his money,” Prompto nods, hands leaving your breasts in favor of hooking his thumbs in your underwear and yanking them down. He makes quick work of his own bottoms, sliding the leggings down to his knees, groaning when his cock finally bobs free into the warm air of the kitchen. “And good in bed, too,” he says, placing his hands on your plush, dimpled hips and squeezing. He lifts one hand and grabs the base of his cock, stroking it to full hardness, and prompts you to stand up on your tiptoes. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you this morning,” Prompto purrs, squeezing at your skin with his soft hands. 

“Please, Prompto,” you gasp, feeling hot all over from the anticipation. “Fuck me, please...” 

“Don’t worry, I will.” Prompto guides himself into your pussy from behind, moaning loudly as he bottoms out, groin flush against your ass. “Gods, _fuck_ ,” he curses. “You feel so good around me, __________…” 

There’s no stopping the wanton moans that rip from your throat as Prompto grips your hips hard and bends you low over the counter, setting a quick, furious pace that leaves you dizzy and shaking. “Prom-Prompto, gods, fuck...!” is all you can really say as he chases his own pleasure behind you, still hyped up from his morning run. 

Prompto throws his head back and grunts. “Feels so good,” he cries. “Love it when you scream my name, _fuck_ , __________, I...” 

“ _Prompto_ ,” you groan, seeing stars as he pounds you from behind, hands gripping the kitchen counter. You attempt to match his rhythm, grinding back against him as he fucks you; it’s sloppy, but it’s oh so good, and it feels beyond amazing. “Fuck, Prom, I...” You concentrate on clenching your muscles around him, crying out when you feel him smack your ass, the pleasure-pain only adding to the overwhelming sensations you’re already experiencing. 

“Wanna fuck you _everywhere_ ,” Prompto groans as his hips snap forward harder and faster. “Show _everyone_ just how much of a good girl you are.” 

“Prompto!” you cry as he ramps up the pace, his thick cock ramming in and out of you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever get to do. 

“ _Oh, _____________ , I’m...!” Prompto comes with a strangled grunt, his release pumping into you for what seems like a ridiculous amount of time. His body goes slack on top of yours, and you brace yourself up on the counter, not wanting to get a face full of chopped fruit. “Fuck,” he mutters, voice all wrecked, heavy cock slipping out of you, his spend trailing down the backs of your thighs. 

Later that evening, after he’s back home from Crownsguard training and you’re home from your part-time job, Prompto takes you at the kitchen counter again as you’re making dinner, claiming to have more adrenaline that he needs to burn off after training. And, as with all things, you have no problem submitting to his every whim and desire. 


End file.
